Survival of the Fittest
by Franky G Fan
Summary: The night before he got abducted, thoughts and feelings of one of the most unliked characters in Saw. Xavier. Also includes an alternate ending; what if Daniel really HAD succumbed to the nerve gas?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I won't bore you with the details of my week or whatever the hell I was planning on rambling about. All I know is I haven't written for the Saw section in forever. Therefore, I felt compelled to write this. It's another Xavier story. Go figure. Oh, Adam has a tiny cameo in this. Lol.**

**I don't own Saw. I'm not that awesome.**

It was raining; water coming down in relentless, bitter torrents. And, unfortunately, he was forced to stand outside in that horrid weather. He really didn't care, actually. He lifted his weary face to the sky, closed his eyes, and let the water soak his skin. It didn't matter that he was wearing naught but skimpy clothes. He was reveling in the freedom. The freedom he'd longed for. The freedom he'd been wanting ever since he'd been locked up. Another surge of fury blazed through him; it was that one dick, the one cop, Eric Matthews or something, who'd busted him and sent him to jail.

His hands clenched and his knuckles twitched. Oh, how'd he like to get his hands on that scrawny son of a bitch.

He shook his head; it didn't matter now. Or, at least, at the moment. He was going to have to go inside. The power of the rain was increasing and he felt a strike of hail tear against his revealed flesh. He shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes narrowed against the rain, and shuffled on down the sidewalk, heading to his shitty apartment complex.

He arrived and shoved his way into the small lobby. The man behind the desk (a scrawny 45-year old) stared at him apprehensively from behind the counter, and he had to hold back a satisfied smirk as he climbed the stairs. The old man was afraid of him. Good.

He stalked down the hall, nearly bumping into a young man (a kid to him; he was 40 himself) who was smoking a Marlboro. The kid had a backpack slung over his shoulder and he stared unblinkingly at him.

"Got another one?"

The kid finally blinked in surprise. "Sure…" He replied hesitantly, shuffling around in his pocket and whipping out a package of cigarettes. He withdrew one, lit it, and handed it to the older man.

Sticking it between his lips and inhaling with relief, he moved on, not even bothering to thank the kid. Cigarettes were as never satisfying as drugs were, but his supply had been taken away. He twitched angrily again, but shoved it off and continued to walk down the hallway until approaching the last door on the right.

He didn't even bother to use his key; he aimed a kick and it swung right open. _Shitty door. _He was going to have to replace it. He just didn't have the money.

His apartment was alien to him after spending the last few years in a dark, damp cell. Not to mention it was freakishly clean. He was a slob, after all. And seeing the bed made, all the trash on the floor deposited neatly into the trash can, the drapes covering the windows, the bathroom restocked with rolls of toilet paper just made him shake his head.

Oh well. He was tired. He took another drag on his cigarette before rubbing the butt out on his tiny dresser, leaving an intense, gray/black smear.

He tossed the cigarette in the general direction of the trash can, frankly not caring whether he made it into it or not, and plopped down onto his bed.

He stretched for a brief moment before rolling onto his side and fading away into sleep.

He was awoken, seemingly just seconds after he'd laid down, by the creaking of the door swinging open.

He sat up abruptly, sliding off of his bed, attempting to be stealthy for once. He opened one of his drawers and whipped out a rusty switchblade.

He wielded it and cautiously stalked towards the direction of the muted footprints from whatever intruder had crept into his apartment at the dead of night.

"Who's there?" He demanded, and then, as an afterthought, added, "I'm gonna fucking kill you."

He didn't mean it, of course. Well, maybe he did; he was prone to short bursts of temper that would harm the others around him. And, besides, he somewhat wanted to kill this intruder.

But, little did he know, the intruder had the advantage of being smaller, lighter, and quite faster.

A figure leapt from the shadows, and before he could spin around or even hold the knife up, something (a syringe, maybe) was jabbed into his jugular vein, and he collapsed to the floor, rendering himself unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

**Xavier story chapter two: commence. A very short chapter two, mind you.**

**I don't own Saw. Lionsgate does**

He woke freezing to death. Not to death, of course, but it felt that way. He was lying on a tiled-no, wooden floor, in nothing but loose baggy sweat pants and a tank top. He pushed himself into a sitting position with a light grunt, feeling a bit light-headed and spending a few seconds crouched before standing up and attempting to figure out where the fuck he was.

He was with other people for sure. Those other people, however, were still unconscious. There was a teenage boy with a head full of curly hair slumped in a corner. Nearby was a blonde woman in a revealing v-neck leaning against another woman with curly black hair and a pink tank top. A man in a hood was hunched by himself near Xavier's feet. A black man was slumped next to another woman with rockstar-styled hair and blue clothing.

So far he was alone in the mental sense. Everyone else was conked out.

He glanced around. The room was boarded and bricked. There was a door but it was heavily bolted and locked. And what caught his interest was the safe in the middle of the room. Big, bulky, and black. He moved towards it, hunching down and giving the lock an experimental twist with his meaty fingers. He could hear the sound of the dial turning.

Something was in there. He felt it. He didn't know what but goosebumps had appeared on his skin and he tried the dial again, a random combination, and yanked at the handle. No dice.

Unfortunately the sound of his curse and the handle being jerked made the people begin to come alive in succession.

It happened the same to each one; a rapid gasp, a startled curse or a plea for help and a few moments of insanity where they desperately tried to get out. The boarded windows were stuck.

Xavier knew this so he merely watched the girls squabble.

The black man, however, was hunched by the only unconscious girl left in the room, and the hooded man was watching him with a disinterest. The teenage kid was still brooding in his corner.

"GET US OUT OF HER!" The curly haired woman had pounded against the bolted door.

Xavier, who'd been pacing, walked straight by. "I don't think anybody's listenin'."

"Somebody's listening," whispered the terrified blonde, pointing up at the camera hooked in the corner of the room.

"What the fuck is this?" He'd gone home, went to sleep, and had expected to wake up in his shitty bed. NOT to be here in this shithole. Fucking great. His pacing grew more agitated.

"Where do you have to go, Pauly D? Back to Jersey Shore?"

Xavier whipped around and shot a vicious glare at the curly-haired woman. "Don't compare me to that fuckin gay-ass douchebag," He snarled.

The woman smirked and looked as if she was about to retort until a sudden gasp echoed about the room.

He turned.

The woman in blue was awake.


	3. Chapter 3

**So sorry, it's been forever, I got into a spot of trouble and haven't had much opportunity to upload/update anything, I'm hoping to at least get one chapter from every multi-chap fic I have up tonight…..**

**I don't own Saw. I'm not that awesome.**

**The woman in blue's body jerked up compulsively and she staggered to her feet. A breathy scream escaped from her thin lips and she stumbled onto the safe, clutching at its corners so tightly the tendons bulged from the back of her slender palms. The look etched across her face was one of insanity. Another shrill scream emerged from her mouth and she slammed a fist into the vault, resulting in an enormous echo that had the blonde in the corner jumping.**

**Xavier was irrationally irritated with the girl's screaming and was inwardly thanking God when the African American quickly pinned her against the wall by her shoulders, his eyes dark and inquisitive but his touch intending to be comforting. "Hey," He spoke roughly, "It's okay, it's gonna be all right, calm down." Her breathing remained hitched. Her eyes bobbed and flickered about the dimly lit room, landing and pausing on Xavier. He sneered in response and folded his muscular arms across his broad chest.**

"**Who are you?" inquired the dark-skinned man. Her eyes fell to him again. "Amanda," She whispered, almost whimpered. Her gaze flitted away. "Where are we?" Amanda's voice grated through her throat.**

"**How do you expect us to fucking know?" Xavier murmured heavily under his breath, one bushy brow twitching with irritation. He couldn't concentrate on finding a way out (or pacing- which is what he was doing at the moment) if the bitch kept rambling and panting and gasping. **

"**Don't know." Jonas tenderly peeled his hands away from Amanda's bony shoulders. "We woke up here. All of us. Just like you."**

"**No shit, Sherlock."**

"**All right, I'm sick of all of your comments, douche bag, now shut the fuck up so we can all think and figure out a way to get out of this hellhole!" The curly-haired woman had snapped at Xavier, her hands balling into fists, her lips curling over her teeth.**

**The brawnier man paused in his pacing and immediately violently glared at her through his impeccably darkened eyes. His lips parted. **

"**Why don't the both of you just shut up?" The teenager in the corner exclaimed in his quiet tone, though his eyes remained glued to the floor. **

**The argument brewing between Xavier and the whore in the pink tank top was interrupted by both the smart-ass's comment and the sudden scream emanating from Amanda's mouth. The girl had spun and slammed both fists into the wall, gliding along it, her fingernails dragging against the wall. She ripped a piece of thick material aside and felt up the bricks and the cracks between them, dropping to her knees as she did so.**

**Xavier watched, somewhat interested, as she slid a brick from its sheath and pulled from behind it a tape recorder and a miniature envelope. "The fuck?" He mumbled, mostly to himself, as she peeled the paper apart with trembling fingers. His suspicions aroused, he watched as she inserted the tape into the recorder. Her finger tapped the play button. **

"**Hello, everyone, I'm sure you're wondering what you're doing here- and I can answer that. You are all here- to play a game." **


End file.
